


Even Without Looking

by mars anna (spaceeoddity)



Category: Arctic Monkeys, Last Shadow Puppets
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 09:47:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29205345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaceeoddity/pseuds/mars%20anna
Summary: In which Miles Kane is a famous film critic who is hard to please and is known for both his excellent directive observance and his ability to exploit even the littlest details in the on-screen world, and Alex Turner is an up-and-coming actor starring in his first big movie.
Relationships: Alexa Chung/Alex Turner (Musician), Jamie Cook/Miles Kane/Alex Turner, Matt Helders/Alex Turner, Miles Kane/Alex Turner, Nick O'Malley/Alex Turner
Kudos: 11





	1. The Great Awakening

Maybe it started the minute I noticed I laughed too hard at the jokes he would tell. Maybe it started when I became his smile’s biggest fan. Oh, but to be the reason for that smile. I loved when I made him laugh. I loved the way his lips pulled apart, and the way his shoulders shook. 

I hadn’t always known him, but it felt like I had. And to think I only met him eight months ago, when my life was barely getting started…

Ten Months Ago

The phone buzzes on the nightstand on the opposite side of my bed. I look at the time, 12:31 AM, and groan. There are acceptable times to call someone, and this is not one of them, but I pick up anyway. “‘S is Alex,” I mumble. “Sorry to wake you, kid, I forget you’re a few hours ahead of me, but I think you’ll be glad I woke you to let you know that you made it.” Nick tells me. My brain takes a second before realizing he must be talking about the casting. “Somewhere In Paradise, you mean?” I verify, and thank Nick before hanging up. There are acceptable times to call someone, and when you have just drastically changed someone’s life, the middle of the night is not one of them.

I don’t sleep the rest of the night. Nick is a good manager, and I’m grateful that he got me in the reading for this script, but reality set in around ten minutes after his call: Los Angeles is three time zones away from this studio apartment, and I am about to move my comfort there. I reach for my phone that is still where I left it nearly ten hours ago and write out a text fourteen different times before finally hitting ‘send’. With any luck, the man on the other end will be here within the hour. Until then, I am going to have to get things started by myself. I pull the suitcase from its place in the closet, and start there. 

It takes forty-five minutes for the doorbell to ring. I jump at the sound of it before getting up to answer. “Afternoon, movie star,” Matt greets me, smiling. “Come on,” I laugh, leading him to my room. “I’m almost done with packing my clothes, but I’m afraid I don’t have any boxes for everything else,” I inform him. “We can go get some once we figure out what you’re taking with you,” Matt suggests. I nod, glad to have someone who can help me figure out how to do this, someone who knows me better than anyone, someone who will shake my shoulders if I ever get stuck. “Are they finding a place for you out there?” Matt asks, fiddling with a Rubik’s cube that has long been abandoned. “Yea, Nick’s looking into it. Didn’t even really have to ask him,” I answer. “That’s good,” I hear him say, but I know there’s a sadness there, because I feel it, too. You can’t spend nearly all of the life you can remember with someone and not be left to feel alone once you are apart from them. I hum in agreement, zipping up the suitcase that has been overstuffed with clothes I probably will not be needing. 

Matt and I get to work, sorting out my belongings into piles of “take” and “get rid of”. Nick let’s me know all of the important dates around dinner time, like the first day of reading and when I have a meeting with so-and-so. It’s a lot. Not that I expected it to be anything less, but now that I’m facing that reality, it’s all so convoluting. It reminds me of when I went into middle school, and suddenly I had eight different teachers, one for each class, and I had all these new classmates, people I didn’t know, and my world felt so big and I felt so small, like maybe if I went by Alexander instead, I’d have a place in it. Matt was the one constant I had, and he has been practically my whole life. To have him here with me, now, as I prepare to begin a new path full of new everything, is both bittersweet and comforting. “What’s this?” I hear him say, and it snaps me out of my thoughts. “Hmm?” I reply, but I don’t look up, unsure if he was talking to himself or not. “This must’ve been from ages ago. Look how little we are, Al. Where’d you get this?” I shift my focus onto the picture Matt’s holding: two boys, laughing at a TV screen, sporting soccer jerseys bearing Turner and Helders, respectively. I take the photo and smile. “I think my mom took it,” I tell him, flipping to look at the back. Al and Matt, it reads, 1997. “Did you want to have it?” Matt looks at me and frowns. “It’s yours, though,” he replies. “I’ve probably had it for a decade now. ‘Sides, you need something to remember me by,” I smirk. He shoves me slightly, laughing lightly, and slides the photo into his wallet. “Alright, Turner. Let’s finish up so you can take me out to eat. I’m starving.”

We buy boxes after I’ve compensated Matt for his help with Olive Garden. My room is in a considerable state; the floor is divided between my belongings. Matt and I decide to get to the actual packing in the morning. “You can take the couch,” I offer, and he nods in agreement. “I get to shower first!” I hear him yell from the living room, and chuckle. I yell back an ‘okay’, and get ready for my scheduled phone call with Nick. He’s made arrangements for moving my things down to LA, and booked a flight for me. He texted me earlier, saying, I’ll call you at 8:30pm your time with the details. It’s 8:29 when my phone rings. “Alexander!” Nick greets me, and I internally groan. “Nicholas,” I deadpan, but he just laughs. “I got you a flight at 7:45am this Saturday at LaGuardia. You’ll land in LAX sometime around 1:30 that afternoon. As for your belongings, I got a moving truck coming out your way, should be there sometime this Thursday. Sound good?” I think for a second, calculating how much time I have between now and Thursday- I’ll have two whole days, maybe a little more depending what time the truck gets here, but I can make it work. “Sounds good,” I reply, and for the first time, nothing feels real.


	2. Brainstorm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first day of script reading

Thursday comes faster than the Monday following a weekend, and before I know it, I’m at LaGuardia- too early for a Saturday, but somehow not early enough. The sooner I can settle into a place, the sooner I hope I’ll feel less like a mass of chaos. Monday is when the real stuff starts: a thirty minute introduction starting at 9am, where the cast gets to meet everyone, and then the first readthrough of the script for Somewhere In Paradise. I bought the book that this film is based off of this morning, and I’m nearly a quarter into it. Even though it only came out three years ago, by a not-so-published author, it’s had quite the success; though this is the first time I’ve read it. Like most actors, I want to be able to understand the character I’ll be portraying; in my case, the main character named ‘Mark’. In the beginning of the story- and I suppose the film, as well- Mark’s father has recently passed away due to lung cancer. Currently, he is trying to take care of his mother, who has early-onset dementia, and has just befriended a nurse named Arabella; if I remember correctly, the actress that’s been casted for the role is Alexa...Chung? There’s a lot of names to remember, but hers is easier because it’s similar to my own. Arabella- “just Bella, is fine”- is one of his mother’s nurses, and Mark’s love interest. They’re hanging outside of the hospital for the first time when the plane lands.

After a whirlwind of a weekend, I’m fifteen minutes early to our cast introductions. “Early is on time,” Nick keeps telling me on the way over, “on time is late, and late is never.” I’m sure this is meant to be taken as sage advice, but I can’t find it in me to take his words to heart. My leg is bumping up and down in anticipation, and I startle when Nick lightly taps my knee, indicating I need to be still. I chew on my lip instead.

There are way more people than I am used to being around in this room. I’ve been in movies, but they were smaller. This- this is big. It doesn’t feel quite real yet. The cast has not yet been released to the public, and even then, I (probably) won’t be the center of attention. I may be portraying the main character, but I’m not well known. If the reaction people are having towards me in this very room is anything to go by, I will go unscathed by Hollywood. “Alex?” I hear someone call from behind me, and I spin around. “I’m Alex,” I confirm, taking in the girl in front of me. We’re around the same height, but any similarities end there. She’s got a hell of a cheekbone and fair skin, and blue eyes that pierce through my attempt at a facade. “I’m Alexa,” she says, holding out her hand, “I play Bella.” I shake her hand. “Nice to meet you,” I reply, and as the director shushes the group of people, I follow Alexa to take a seat.

“Because...everyone here is sick, and sad, and dying, and you have a way of making me forget about that when I’m with you. Hell, even when I’m not with you,” Alexa recites, and I’m blown away by the emotion she holds. “I don’t know what to say,” is my line, and I decide to make it more of a whisper- which would be great when filming, but not-so-great when your co-star is across the room from you at a separate table. Luckily, it’s dead quiet aside from whoever’s supposed to be talking, so it comes out alright. “So don’t say anything,” Alexa finishes, and the scene ends with Mark and Bella kissing. “And scene!” The director- Zach? Jack? Nick talks too fast and this guy talks even faster- yells out, and just like that, we’re out for lunch.

“There’s a nice Thai place a couple blocks away,” Nick tells me. I simply nod at him, watching as Alexa talks to someone on the phone; likely her manager. Nick, of course, notices. “Crushing already, Turner?” I start to deny him when he starts talking again, “I can go over and see if her crew wants to come and eat with us, eh?” He looks at me expectantly, and I stare back, wondering if he genuinely doesn’t get normal human interaction, or if he’s an alien. I decide he’s probably both. “No, Nick, thank you,” I tell him, and he seems to understand and let it go. Seems. Cause I’m still sure he’s not entirely sane.

While his senses might not be intact, Nick’s taste in restaurants turn out to be quite keen. I’m not usually one for Asian food, but this little Thai place Nick found might have me rethinking. I’m starting on seconds when I feel my phone buzz. How’s it going so far? the screen reads, and I shoot off a quick “it’s going okay” before putting my phone back in my pocket. “Who was that?” Nick asks me, as he reads through the schedule for the upcoming months. “Matt,” I answer, before realizing he doesn’t know who that is. “My friend,” I add, and he hums in response. I sigh. Nick will talk your ear off, but if he’s not the one exchanging words, then there isn’t much conversation at all. I silently thank and curse him for this. It’s going to be a helluva time if he’s the only one I have here.


End file.
